Reflections
by Chibi-Slacker
Summary: A series of drabbles from the viewpoints of the Ranma cast, posted in the order I wrote them. Some weaker than others. Consider them AU, consider them completely OOC, whatever.
1. Mist

He always comes back to me, you know. 

Through the arguments and the challenges, through the magic and the crazy curses, despite the parents, I have one truth:

He'll always come back to me.

I know I'm not as pretty as some of his fiancees. I'm certainly not as strong or fast or powerful. I could never show my feelings the way they do. All I can do is be there.

I'm the last person he sees before going on those insane training trips. I'm the first to greet him when he returns. I bandage his wounds. I offer what comfort I can, as little as it may be. I provide a shoulder to lean upon, an ear to hear his troubles, an outstretched hand.

Deep in my heart, sometimes I despair. I rant and rave against the box life has forced me into. The life I'm trapped in. Sometimes, I want to break out and damn the consequences. Yet, I can never force myself to do it. For all that I hate it, my life wraps me in the warm, comforting embrace of regularity. I hold the hand that I have been dealt, because I'm not as strong as he is. He can look life in the eye, throw the cards in its face, and tell it where to put them.

I... I can't. I wish I could. All I can do is dream of all that could be, but will never happen.

So I stay in the background. I hide the pain behind a placid smile. The longing is shoved deep inside, buried beneath a lake of calm politeness. I watch every smile he gifts another with and feel them stab into my heart, knowing they'll never be for me. But that's okay. After all, I have a lifetime of hiding myself in this mask. It's been so long, I almost can't remember what it's like before I started wearing it.

And I watch him as he fights and yells and lives, lives like I only dream of. I watch, when he trains. I watch, when he eats. I watch, when he thinks he's alone.

I watch, as his eyes shine with a pain and longing and despair so deep that it takes my breath away. And I realize:

He's just as alone as I am.

Somehow, my hands are pressed against his cheeks. I never realized he was shorter than I until now. I can feel the question in my eyes. I can see the answer in his.

And I know, with the faith of a mountain, a simple, pure truth.

He'll always come back to me.

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Author's Note:

The first one I wrote, obviously. I was going to leave it there, but then my muse babbled at me and started nagging me until I slapped out a few more. Blame her.


	2. Yen

He never pushes back.

No matter how hard I press him, he just takes it. I lie and manipulate and abuse, trying to make him react. I rent him and laugh. I tease him and giggle. I flirt and grin.

Yet, he never pushes back. 

It makes me angry, beyond anything I've ever felt. I know he's not weak. I've seen the training he does. I know he's got a core of pure steel, deep down. But he never shows it. He just bends and caves to every person who comes down the pike, demanding more and more of him.

So I get angrier and with my rage grows my coldness. So I push more and more outrageoously, trying to get a reaction. A growl, a frown, a scream, anything.

Something to show me that he's worth fighting for. 

Until he's standing there in the ruins of a tuxedo. His hands are fisted at his sides. His eyes... I've never seen eyes like that. Filled with a rage that could destroy stars. Sorrow in me so deep it's all I can do to keep from curling into a fetal ball and weeping. And I realize, it's not weakness that keeps him from responding. It's pure will. And I meet his eyes and feel something inside me rejoicing.

Because, despite the nearly literal hell I've put him through... In spite of the teasing and taunting...

He never pushes back. 


	3. Sauce

He always smiles for me.

Burnt, bruised, or battered, there's always that smile. It never reaches his eyes. But it's always there, hiding his pain. I know he hurts. I know he longs for something he can't admit, not even to himself. More than the constant fighting. More than just being the best.

Happiness. Joy. Peace. Love. Trust.

The smile buries those lost dreams, hides them behind a plastic cheer. Because if he doesn't smile, he has to face his dreams.

I want to slap it off his face and shake him. Shake him until those hidden dreams and hopes break free to rise to the surface. Dammit, doesn't he understand? I want him to be happy. Truly happy, not the pale imitation he puts up as a disguise. 

But that smile cuts me off, keeping me from him. 

So I serve him with cheer and a smile, every time he comes to me. I hide my own pain and longing, because I can't bear to let him know how much it hurts me to see that smile. 

I watch him eat, hoping that today will be the day he stops smiling and knowing deep in my heart that it won't. I watch him at school, enduring the frustrations brought by his father and the life he's been saddled with.

And, suddenly, I understand. Despite the chaos and the crazy. Despite all the others. Despite his hidden sorrow and lonliness...

He always smiles for me. 


	4. Enthusiasm

He never pushes me away.

He protests and complains. He flails and wiggles. He screams and glares. He is beaten and threatened. 

He suffers the craziness I bring to his life. The destruction I cause without even trying. The rivals and complications that follow me. 

And I make it worse, because I refuse to bow to the expectations of the society that traps him. I try to show him that I don't care what they think of me, through words and actions. I don't care about them, because I only care about him.

I suffer the daily snubs of the small-minded, weak populace I'm forced to deal with. I endure the forced attentions of the only other member of my tribe. I ignore the snide comments from the others that they don't think I hear or understand...and wouldn't care if I did.

And through it all, one thing keeps me going. With every glomp, with every caress, with every touch, he shows me the only way he can:

He never pushes me away. 


	5. Roses

His eyes never hurt me. 

His mouth moves, spilling out insults. He resists my embrace. He calls me crazed. He pulls away. He throws me away from him.

He never looks happy to see me.

But he's never hesitated to save me, when I needed it. He's never been mean just for the sake of it.

Even as he calls me insane, even as he flees my embrace for those other girls, even as he tells me to stay away...

The words hurt. The fleeing hurts. But his eyes... Those windows to his soul...

His eyes never hurt me.

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Author's Note:

The weakest of the lot, I fear. I have always had a problem getting inside Kodachi's headspace and making her a sympathetic character. Ah, well. Sometimes, you just write things that fall into the 90.


	6. Wild

I can't hurt them.

They love me. I know this, even if I can't let them know I do. I can't understand why, but they do. I see it in their eyes. I feel it in their touch. I can hear it with every word they say to me.

So I lie to them and to myself. I hide my knowledge of the truth behind a veil of ignorance so thick it even fools myself sometimes. I bury myself in the art as an excuse. I take advantage of challenges to distance them. I keep them at bay with thoughtless words.

I can see the pain in their eyes with every action and it feels like I'm being stabbed in the heart. 

I know I can't keep it up. Eventually, I'll fail. Someday, the balance will tip and the whole game will crash to a halt. But for as long as I can, I dance the razor's edge, wishing for a solution that will make us all happy. Because when push comes to shove...

I always win.

I'll find a way.

I won't hurt them. 


End file.
